“All the time?” Her voice grew louder.
“Okay.” He pulled in a breath. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say that’s how I walk; how would you change it?”
“I’d have you walk like John Wayne! Haven’t you been paying attention?”
All of a sudden, the hilarity of the argument caught up with him, and he collapsed at the waist, laughing so hard, he had to close his eyes to catch his breath. “And how does John Wayne walk?” he asked when he recovered enough. “Show me.”
She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
He cleaned is throat, and forced himself to stand straighter. “No. How does John Wayne walk?”
She narrowed her eyes, like all she wanted was to end this silly argument, but then she stalked across the room. “You’re always so stiff.” She grabbed his shoulders. “You need to loosen up.”
He raised his brows at her, tried not to smile, and did as she said. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” She clenched her teeth. “Push your shoulders back like this.” She gave him a demonstration and pushed out her chest.
“Okay.”
“Good.” She calmed a little. “Now bend your knees.” Each of her hands settled on his hips, and she pressed down slightly.
His heart rate picked up a little.
She stilled, keeping her hands on his body as she moved around him. She glanced up, into his eyes. “Women like when you’re indifferent. It drives us crazy.”
“Is that so?” He didn’t look away, instead, his eyes shifted downward, taking in her pink lips, and hair that was still damp from her shower. He clenched his jaw. “Is that really what you want? Some asshole who doesn’t notice you?”
Her eyes met his and she blinked. “We’re not talking about me.”
“I am.” His throat went dry, and suddenly, the whole room became thick with the tension that seemed to follow them around like the sun. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he pushed it away. “Is that what you want?” he glanced toward the TV. “Some guy who drags you through mud and acts like he doesn’t give a shit?”
She lowered her hands, and stepped away from him. “Why do you have to always make things complicated?”
“Why do you always avoid the question?”
A loud knock sounded at the front door in that moment, and Fe jumped a good foot in the air. She placed one hand to her chest, and spun around. “Are you expecting anyone?” she asked breathlessly.
His heart was hammering too, but for a completely different reason. “No.” He walked toward the peep hole as the pounding came again. BOOM BOOM BOOM.
“What the—” Elliot yanked the door open, almost grateful for the interruption, but quickly changed his mind. Standing on the other side of the door with his back lazily braced against the stairwell was his brother. “Colton? What are you doing here?”
Colton pushed himself from the wall and braced his legs apart. “Well howdy to you too.” He glanced between Elliot and Fe, then pushed himself from the wall. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in, little brother?”
Elliot opened the door wider, taking in the motorcycle helmet in his brother’s hand, the leather jacket that had seen better days, and the smile that every female seemed to fall in love with.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything?” Colton asked, glancing over at Fe again.
She came toward them, her hands smoothing over her cotton night-shirt as she stood by Elliot’s side.
“What are you doing here?” Elliot finally asked.
His brother shrugged, then moved into the apartment without being invited. “Tell you what, get me a beer, introduce me to your girlfriend, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“I’m—we’re—Elliot’s my roommate,” Fe stammered out.
Colton shouldered past them, seeming amused by the clarification, and looking around the apartment. His eyes settled on the TV screen, where The Quiet Man was still paused on the last scene.
He laughed. “Is that The Quiet man? I love a this movie.”